


Retrovision

by JenAndrews



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Drama, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:28:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22114153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenAndrews/pseuds/JenAndrews
Summary: Mulder travels back to the day Scully left their home. Picks up from where Snow Boots ended.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	Retrovision

**Author's Note:**

> Originally intended to be a second chapter for Snow Boots. I'm still unsure whether it should be a standalone, but the end is open for me to continue if I feel inclined.

Retrovision

Mulder's breath turned into a white mist as it hit the ice-cold air. He felt frozen from his head to his toes, like the snowy winter night had somehow cemented him to the porch steps. He knew he was in physical pain and that he should have moved long ago. His hands were bare and exposed to harsh elements, and the snow had melted and soaked through his thin cotton shirt. But he was lost in a sea of thoughts and memories. He felt numb, and like he was somehow detached from his body.

He had no idea how much time had passed since William had left, but as he looked down at his boots – which rested on the steps below him – he realised he was covered in a thick blanket of snow.

He bent his knees to shift the white mass off of his jeans and found that even in sub-zero temperatures his joints were now moving fluidly and without pain. A sense of awe tickled his insides, as he marveled at what incredible gifts his son had. Healing others. Mulder had already known that his child was practically indestructible – he'd witnessed him take a bullet to his forehead and he'd come through it alive. But to be able to heal others was by far the superior gift in his mind. To restore what is irrevocably broken, and offer hope when all hope has been lost... those were truly gifts to humanity.

Since William was born, Mulder had believed this child was a gift. He'd believed it the first time he'd held him, when Scully placed the tiny boy into his arms. He still believed it when Scully stood across from him on that dock and tried to tell him that William wasn't his son. He still believed it now.

Scully had her faith, and Mulder had his. To find out tonight that William was his biological child, was a vindication of sorts. A reward for his faith.

He could only imagine the sordid motivations the Smoking Man had for impregnating Scully with Mulder's child. No doubt it was some demented power-play. Some sick satisfaction at knowing the only reason Mulder could give Scully a child was because he allowed it. Or so he could one day take that child away and use him for his own insidious purposes, leaving Mulder and Scully broken.

The Smoking Man had once told him, that he had protected him all these years, just so that he could see him broken and afraid. What unimaginable evil must one possess to crave your own child's suffering? To be able to murder them with your own hands, as he had attempted to do to both of his sons. But his father was the reason Mulder knew how little of importance DNA played in who a person would become.

Still, for Scully he knew things were different. Her heart and body had been raided, abused and violated. Mulder's insides burned with anger whenever he forced himself to think of it.

For her to know that she had been impregnated with a child created with their combined DNA, rather than playing host to some madman's experiment without her consent and against her will, would make a significant difference to her. Particularly because at the time, that's what she had wanted above all else.

He'd seen her heart shatter to pieces when the IVF they attempted had failed. He could still remember the feeling of her warm tears spilling against the bare skin of his cheek. He'd kissed them away, held and soothed her, desperate to make them stop. Desperate to return everything that had been stolen from her.

Mulder had a fantastic memory, and the details of that day were etched permanently in his mind. It was one of the memories he returned to on those lonely nights, in the years she had left their home.

That was the day his life had changed forever. The first time Scully had laid her body and soul bare in front of him and begged him to love her pain away. Her walls crumbled, just as she did into his arms. For the first time, she let him in. Truly let him in, without her fears controlling her and compelling her to push him away. He'd tasted her pain, and her tears, her sweat, her love, and that miraculous space between her legs. His world stopped turning – or perhaps it started – the day the IVF had failed.

His heart had suffered too. Not because he'd wanted to be a father, but because he'd wanted to father Scully's children. The day she had asked him – so meek and vulnerable and uncertain – so unlike the Scully she usually presented to him, hope and desire began to flourish in his soul. He began to picture what he scarcely allowed himself to dream of before – having a life with Scully. A real life. Not one filled with pain and loss, and a never-ending trail of lies and deceit. One where she would smile, and he could touch her as often as he liked... a life where he was the man that Dana Scully wanted.

He'd pictured the life they had together now. This perfect, incredible life that for decades had eluded them. Scully didn't just smile, but she laughed... every day. And she slept peacefully beside him every night, sometimes with Maggie squished between them and sometimes not. There was a time she would hug the edge of the bed, trying not to let him hear her muffled sobs. She would work herself to the bone at the hospital, just so she wouldn't have to come home and face speaking to him. He was depressed. So depressed that he lost sight of everything but her. Amongst the chaos in his mind she was still there. Crying. Alone. In pain... because of him.

He was so lost that when she walked away he didn't try to stop her. In fact, he'd done the exact opposite. He'd practically driven her from their home. He'd been cold, aloof, distant and even downright mean to her on some occasions. He'd pushed her away, wishing she would flee and somehow find the happiness that he could never give her. Find a man that could be everything she needed, and everything she deserved, because the depression had left him as nothing but an empty shell. If anyone deserved to be happy, it was his Scully. If he had to let her go in order for that to happen, he would. Even if she was the only thing left that he had to live for.

But even though he'd done his best to drive her away... she came back. Again and again, she came back.

In the beginning she would make excuses for being there. She'd find some reason she had to come to the house. She'd say it was to collect something, or to check on something. But as the months passed she'd sometimes return without a word being spoken. She'd knock. He'd answer. She'd remove his clothing and hers. And with every knock at his door, and every time she returned, he slowly came back to life. She reminded him of what it was to feel. His touchstone. His saviour. The red sun which his world revolved around.

Light flooded from behind him as the front door swung open.

"Mulder?" His red sun called. He could hear the concern in her voice.

Mulder wanted to answer, but he was shaking almost violently, and his breath was uneven. His only protection from the elements was a long-sleeved tee and a pair of jeans. The snow on his arms had melted and soaked through the fabric, chilling his skin ice-cold.

The screen door made a loud creaking sound as Scully stepped outside in her blue velvet robe and slippers. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the lack of light, but the house light filtering through the door and hitting Mulder in the back made it easy to spot him sitting in front of her. In just a few steps she was by his side.

"Jesus, Mulder!" She cried out as her hand flew to his face. She almost flinched at how cold he felt to her toasty-warm skin. A moment later she was on the ground, kneeling next to him. "What are you doing? What's wrong?" Her voice had crossed the line from concern to fear.

"Nuh– Nothing." He stammered. "I'm... okay."

"You're shaking, and you're soaking wet! Come on, get up!" She commanded. Mulder couldn't help but admire her authoritative tone. He loved his bossy Scully. When it amalgamated with another favourite of his – _doctor_ Scully – it was incredibly hot. "What happened? Are you trying to give yourself hypothermia!?"

"Relax, d–d–doc." Said Mulder, his message being undermined by the uncontrollable stuttering. He reached for the handrail and pulled himself to his feet. He was stiff from the cold, but Mulder knew if he'd tried this yesterday, his joints would be killing him, and it would have been very difficult and painful for him to stand.

Scully ushered him towards the door, supporting his lower back as he walked shakily forward.

A wave of warmth washed over Mulder as he stepped into the house.

"Come on… let's get you on the couch." Said Scully, as she continued to nudge him along.

Mulder collapsed in a heap onto the old leather sofa. Scully grabbed the woolen blanket that was draped over the back of the couch, and spread it out on top of him. She disappeared for a moment and returned a minute later with her medical bag. She knelt down on the ground beside Mulder, who was now slightly curled up on his side. After rummaging in her bag for a moment, she retrieved an oral thermometer.

"Mulder, open your mouth." Ordered Scully, as she held the device in front of his face.

Mulder did as he was told. Usually he would protest, but he was shivering too much to object. Scully placed the digital thermometer under his tongue, making even broken speech impossible. Mulder wanted to ask Scully about William. He wanted to know what she and William had discussed, and what she had learned about him. But mostly he just wanted to know if she was okay. William was gone again, and instead of him being there for her she was being forced to take care of him. Mulder had no idea how this had happened.

Scully reached out and took his hands in hers. She was worried by how cold he felt.

"Mulder, can you feel my hands?" She asked, running her fingertips along his. Scully was checking for any numbness in his extremities.

"Mm-hmm." He answered, the thermometer in his mouth obstructing any real words from coming out.

The thermometer beeped and Scully hastily grabbed it from his mouth.

"93 degrees, Mulder. You're hypothermic." She sounded a lot calmer than she felt. Her mind was racing about the how and why of the situation. She wondered if it had something to do with William, or if Mulder was in delayed shock from what they had witnessed happen to their daughter all but twelve hours ago.

Their child had been killed right in front of their eyes. Maggie would be gone now if it hadn't been for William's miraculous intervention. Though she now slept soundly upstairs, the scars from today would remain with them for a long time to come.

For any parent to see their child in the condition they had seen their daughter in today, it could cause shock, acute stress or PTSD. With Mulder’s mental health history, this kind of trauma had the potential to cause a devastating relapse. His love for this child had healed him in a way that medicine never could. To lose her would destroy him, and today he was confronted with that possibility in the most horrific way possible.

Since Maggie’s birth he hadn’t been on any medication. Their baby made him happier than Scully had ever seen him in all the years she’d known him. Looking at him in those weeks after she was born, it was hard to imagine this was a man who had ever known a day of sadness in his life. All traces of his depression were gone. Even with the sleepless nights and monotony of caring for a newborn, there was an energy and lightness about him Scully had never seen before.

"I th–think the thermometer is being a drama queen." Mulder smiled at her with soft eyes. He could see she was worried, and he regretted being the reason. She'd been through enough today. Hell, she'd been through enough for a lifetime.

"We have to get you out of these wet clothes and into bed." She said, tugging on the sleeve of his dark red shirt.

"I like the sound of that." Said Mulder, waggling his eyebrows at her. She looked at him sceptically, but with a slight smile that told him he was loved.

"Do you think you can make it up the stairs?" Asked Scully, as she moved towards Mulder's feet and began loosening the laces of his boot. She knew his arthritic pain had been particularly bad these past few months. As much as he tried to hide it, she knew him too well for it to escape her notice.

"I know I can." He answered, his speech becoming easier now as his body temperature began to rise. Though he didn't feel much warmer, the shivering was becoming less.

Scully pulled off Mulder's boots and removed his socks, throwing them to the side.

"Come on." Scully said, reaching for his hands and helping him to his feet.

"I appreciate your help, but I can manage on my own, Scully. You should go be with Maggie." Mulder protested as they shuffled over to the staircase.

"She's the reason I came down here." Scully said, as Mulder put his foot on the bottom step. She expected that the journey to the top would take a few minutes, but Mulder practically bounded up to the landing before turning to look down at her. Scully furrowed her brow, realising something was odd about how agile he was – especially in a hypothermic state.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"She woke up and told me that, 'Daddy is cold, and needs a blanket.'" Scully explained as she made her way up to join him. "I promised her I would get you one, and she went right back to sleep. She knew you needed me."

"I need to check on her." Said Mulder, as he made a bee-line to Maggie's room.

Scully wanted to argue, as she was anxious to get him into bed and stabalise his body temperature. But she knew there was no point.

Maggie's door was slightly ajar, and Mulder peeked through the opening. He smiled at the little girl, wrapped snuggly in her blankets and floral comforter, looking completely at peace. He couldn't help himself, he had to go in and give her a goodnight kiss.

He shuffled into the room, the woolen blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Scully watched as he reached down and stroked the little girl's auburn hair, which seemed to be growing darker by the day. He leant over and kissed her on her temple.

"Goodnight, baby girl." He whispered. Scully's heart fluttered, just the same as it always did whenever she saw the two of them together.

Mulder looked over at Scully, and met her eyes. He loved when she looked at him like that. When he could see the happiness pouring out of her. Every time he saw that expression of joy on her face, it made him feel as though all of the years off pain and trauma were worth it, just to get to this place. He'd go through it all a hundred times over for this little girl, and to see Scully smile.

“Come on, Mulder. She’s fine.” Whispered Scully, as she gave him a warm smile. She gestured for him to come, reaching out towards him. He followed her command, walking back towards her and taking her hand onto his. He knew his skin must feel uncomfortably cold against her palm, but he allowed himself the comfort of it.

“Let’s go.” She said, tugging him along towards their bedroom. “Bed, warm fluids and physical activity.”

“Warm fluids? Scully, are you coming on to me?” He said, with a smile that hadn’t changed in the thirty years she’d known him. She still saw the same mischievous grin he had back when they had first become partners.

It left her awestruck in those times she stopped to think about how much time had passed. It was so long ago and so much had happened since then, that it almost felt like it wasn’t her life at all. She’d worked on the X-Files for nine years, but she’d lived another twenty-one years since then. Her career as a practicing medical doctor had lasted much longer, and her relationship with Mulder had endured more years than both.

“That’s the treatment for mild hypothermia.” Said Scully, more amused than her face let on.

“I’m not really hearing any denial here, Dana.” Answered Mulder, pushing her buttons as only he knew how.

He only ever called her by her first name when they were intimate. He’d barely spoken it until the first time that they were physical. But he’d whispered and yelled and purred it into her ear, soothing her – touching her in ways and places he never had before. When it was spoken from his lips, it was a word that signified pushing boundaries, crumbling walls, passion and lust, and above all… love unbound. That was one memory that had never faded, and she was sure never would. Even after all of these years, she craved hearing it, just as she craved him.

She ignored his remarks as she released his hand and pushed him into their bedroom.

“Take off your shirt.” Scully said, as she reached for the bottom hem of this long-sleeved tee. It was still damp from the snow, and she had to get it off of him and under some warm, dry layers. The woolen blanket fell from his shoulders and onto the floor.

“You take off yours.” Mulder snickered as she helped him pull his shirt up over his head.

She could see the goose pimples on his bare skin, as he continued to shiver. The hair that covered his chest was a beautiful silver now. She truly adored it, just like the many grey strands in his hair. Given the life they had lived and the incredible dangers they had faced – especially Mulder – she felt grateful they ever saw the opportunity to grow old. Every silver strand, every line and wrinkle, was a reminder of how much time had passed, and that they were still here and very much alive. The fact that they were still by each other’s side, and growing old together – that was a small miracle. It was a miracle she felt thankful for every day, and what she reminded herself of when she looked in the mirror and felt tempted to criticise her reflection. She hadn’t forfeited her red locks as of yet, but once all the colour had drained from Mulder’s hair, she would join him. She’d match him stride for stride, hand in hand, in this life and the next.

Mulder’s shirt joined the blanket on the floor, and Scully immediately reached for his belt buckle.

“Uhh… Scully. I’d just like to point out that at my current temperature I may not perform to my usual spectacularly high standards.”

“Stop it, Mulder.” She said, dismissively as she tugged his belt loose from his jeans.

Something about her tone let Mulder know she was bothered by something. Likely something other than his body temperature.

She’d once seen him collapse from exhaustion on the cold desert plains of Antarctica, and come back completely fine. She too had suffered much more severe hypothermia on more than one occasion. She was a doctor, and knew as he did, that he was in no real danger. He’d be fine in an hour or two. Something else was worrying her.

“Hey, I’m going to be fine.” Mulder said softly, bringing his chilly fingertips up to her forehead and stroking her hair back behind her ear. He smiled down at her lovingly, wishing he could pull her closer. She didn’t look at him.

Avoiding his gaze, she continued to focus on his jeans, unbuttoning them and pulling down his zipper. Mulder assisted her as she tugged them down towards his knees. The damp material clung to his skin making it more difficult to get out of them than it usually would. As she fell to her knees in front of him as he stood there in nothing but a pair of red underwear, Mulder was tempted to make another joke, but he could tell now that levity was not what she needed in this situation. She needed something else from him right now. But he wasn’t sure what. He’d have to wait for the minutes to unfold, and for her to reveal what was upsetting her.

“I know you are… _Physically_. It doesn’t mean I enjoy seeing you like this.” Said Scully, as she rose to her feet and helped him step out of the jeans bunched at his feet.

She still wasn’t meeting his eyes, and was fixing her gaze on his chest. She always did that when she was thinking or feeling something that she was reluctant to let Mulder see. He’d noticed it in the first year of their partnership. It was as if she believed he would see the truth in her eyes. Maybe she was right, for so much between them was communicated without words. Pain and sadness was mostly what she’d tried to conceal while they were working partners, but sometimes he was sure it had been affection and love too.

It was a very rare occurrence these days. There were no walls between them anymore. She didn’t hide when she was hurt, like she had for so many years. Instead she reached out for him. She asked to be held and told him when she needed help. She trusted him to be there and not to hurt her. Her faith in him had been rebuilt. That’s why he had finally managed to get that band of gold on her finger.

Mulder paused to reflect on the way she emphasised the word “physically”. The implication was a clear one – she was worried about his metal state. He couldn’t blame her given his past. His mental health had destroyed them both, and put her through absolute hell.

He felt like a completely different man now, but he knew neither of them would forget the past. He would never choose to, because remembrance of that pain made what they had now all the more precious and divine. But they had so much more to lose now, in this precious little utopia they had built within the walls of an old farmhouse – it was hard to believe after all they had suffered that something wasn’t going to rob them of it. However, he was certain it would never be because of his mental state falling apart. Not as long as he had his girls.

He’d spent most of his life feeling as though he was responsible for the fate of the world. Like humanity seeing tomorrow depended on him finding and exposing the truth. Exposing the insidious plans laid out for the human race by a handful of evil men whose thirst for power and control would destroy everything. Maggie had freed him from that mental prison. Because the moment she came into the world, he was beholden to nobody and nothing but her. For the first time since he was a boy, he could live and breathe, as long as she was safe and happy. There was no mission in his life but to protect what was _his_ – his wife and child.

These men had robbed him of his sister, of any chance at a normal existence and eventually even of his sanity. He’d almost lost the most precious gift he’d received in his life – his Scully – countless times. How much pain and loss she had also suffered for following him and his relentless obsession.

It should have been enough back in 1994, when she’d arisen from near-death – when she’d returned to him against all odds. It should have been enough for him. The infertility should have been enough. The cancer should have been enough. The almost losing her for the dozenth time should have been enough. It should have been enough for him to let go – to refuse to let them take any more from him – to let them rob him of another day or to allow her to be hurt ever again. But he couldn’t let go. Even for Scully he couldn’t let go.

He wished he could go back. He’d walk into that basement office back in 1994 and throat-punch his younger self. Tell him to forget about it all and take Scully somewhere safe, and live the incredible life he was living now – how incredible his life was in it’s almost normalcy. But the fool would never listen. He’d be asking his younger self to do something he wasn’t capable of.

He wasn’t able to change for Scully, as much as he wished he could have. But, Maggie? There was no way he would ever allow her to be hurt by his actions. She was a line in the sand – a distinct symbol between a before and after. He wouldn’t let that world and that life of darkness touch her. He wouldn’t allow his previous foolishness, or the dangerous paths he’d taken affect her. He wouldn’t fail her. He _couldn’t_ fail her. She was a precious gift that he could never have dreamt of being afforded. Just knowing of her existence had rekindled hope within him when he believed all had been lost.

She was his last chance to create something wonderful and worthy in his life. She was his last hope at giving Scully the life she’d always wanted and deserved . Even that… to see Scully truly happy, was an immeasurable gift. He would never pursue a case while he could be home reading Maggie a bedtime story, or watching her giggle as she tries to catch rainbow-coloured soap bubbles on a summer day. He would never walk into danger or put himself at risk again, unless it was to protect the innocent or someone he loved. He’d spent over forty years waging war with enemies he couldn’t even perceive, whom he was so inconsequential to that they still allowed him to live.

One Christmas Eve a ghost had confronted him with a frighteningly accurate picture of himself and his future. The details of that night were fuzzy, but he recalled the words “narcissistic, workaholic, egomaniac” and “total whacko breakdown” being uttered. Time would tell that the ghost – _Maurice_ – was right.

He’d pursued the truth to the point of insanity. He reached such a point of delusion that even Scully couldn’t pull him back to reality. He’d been misled time and time again, always taking the bait – always following the breadcrumbs to his demise. Though he’d uncovered and exposed many lies, and found the truth that lay beneath, never did his younger self want to consider… just how little any of it might matter.

His younger self could never admit to the possible futility of it all. Because at the time he had nothing else but this idealistic pursuit of justice. There was no risk he wouldn’t take back then, because he had nothing to lose. He’d had nothing resembling a family, and hadn’t since he was a boy. He’d had no true friends because he was unable to trust anyone. The only one he truly trusted was Scully. He trusted Scully – he _loved_ Scully – and she held him at arm’s length for her own protection.

All he had back then was the desperate hope that if he never gave up he would one day find what he was looking for. That something had a name once… _Samantha_. But once he’d found her, he kept pushing, kept searching, for _something_ … because he didn’t know any other way to be.

William would have changed him. He was sure of that. If he’d been allowed to raise his son, he would be a different man today. But his presence had been a danger to that baby. He had had to live with that knowledge every day of his life. Mulder put his own child in danger from his first breaths, simply by being who he was. He had to abandon his child and the woman he loved because of who he was – because of the life he’d lived and the choices he’d made. It was him who cost Scully everything, including being able to keep the baby she’d so desperately wanted. That knowledge had eventually destroyed him.

Maggie… she changed everything for him. She offered him a chance at absolution. She even quelled the guilt within him and quieted the demons he carried, because somehow all of his mistakes and failures had led to her. His perfect, pink-cheeked cherub who looked like a little Scully and inherited her mother’s pure, giving heart. If he had done anything differently, she wouldn’t be here, and therefore all of the pain in the past was a necessary evil. What he had learned from his mistakes were what made him the man he was today. From that moment he found out she existed, he vowed he would become everything she and Scully needed him to be. If he had to be someone different in order to keep Maggie safe, and be her father, he would be.

He wasn’t really different, of course. He was a man who made responsible choices. He was a man who behaved as though he had something to live for, because he had _everything_ to live for. He was the kind of man he would have been, with the kind of life he would have chosen, if his future hadn’t been stolen from him at twelve years old.

He still chased elusive cryptozoological creatures through the forest, in hopes of one day catching a glimpse of whatever created that imprint he’d found along the banks of the Mogoagogo river. But now he did so with a little girl by his side, who was so excited by the idea of finding a big, hairy friend that she made enough noise to scare any wildlife within a thousand yards. While Scully trailed behind them shaking her head at their antics.

“Mulder?” Said Scully, interrupting his thoughts. She had pulled the blankets back for him and was gesturing for him to get into bed.

“Sorry, doc. Just daydreaming.” Mulder said, as he sat down on the bed and pulled the covers over the top of him.

“Are you sure that’s all it was?” Scully said, looking noticeably concerned. He could tell she was wondering if he was having some kind of breakdown.

“You being on your knees makes a man’s mind go places.” He said, smiling and handing her his glasses. She gave him a slight smile as she folded his glasses and placed them on the bedside table. He was trying to appease her, but it was far from being a lie. She could do something as small as licking cookie crumbs off her lips and his imagination was up and running.

Passion in a relationship – according to the experts – should only last a few years. He’d like the experts to explain to him then, how at 62 years old and after knowing her for 30 years, and fucking her quite literally _thousands_ of times, all she had to do was move a certain way or make a certain sound or expression and he was salivating like a school-boy with his first crush. Men were supposed to start slowing down once they hit 50, but here he was 12 years after his 50th birthday, ready to go as ever.

He couldn’t remember a time when he didn’t want her. Even when his mental state was so poor, and his mind was so far gone that he’d convinced himself he didn’t care, he still never stopped being attracted to her. He had no power to say no. It was as if even though his mind had lost all sense of reality, his body still remembered what it wanted and where it belonged. It’s what grounded him and eventually brought him back to life. She was his touchstone in more than a figurative sense. When he was drifting with no sense of what was real, her skin, her touch, her taste was the only thing that felt solid, and the only thing that tethered him.

“Let me just get a few extra blankets from the linen closet.” She said, turning to leave the room.

“Forget the blankets, Scully.” Mulder interrupted her. “I want you.” He said, gently.

Scully could tell from his tone that he wasn’t meaning in a sexual manner.

“Besides, you know I can’t stay here without you.” He grinned up at her.

He never had and never would sleep in this bed without her. In the time they had been separated he had only ever slept on the couch. The bed was only used on those nights when she finally came home to share it with him.

They had purchased it together, back in 2014 – not all that long before she had left. He was falling apart, but Scully being Scully was still trying to hold things together. He’d been cold and distant that day, showing as little interest as possible, and eventually she’d decided on this bed by herself. It was _her_ bed in his mind. Sometimes it was _theirs_ , but it was never _his_.

The first night after she had left he had tried to sleep in it, but found it impossible. It smelled like her, and though the scent was faint he found the sensation overbearing, like it was filling his lungs and crushing him from the inside. In fact the entire room had given him a similar feeling. Unlike the rest of the house their bedroom was just so _her_. Mulder was pretty sure he could count the amount of times he entered this room during 2015 on two hands.

After she visited him and they messed up the sheets, he had this bizarre ritual of leaving the bed unmade for exactly three days. He didn’t enter the room, but he would stand at the doorway, leaning against the doorjamb and stare at the bed for a few minutes. He felt like he needed to leave the mess to remind him she had been there, and that it wasn’t a dream.

But on the third day he would force himself to straighten them out and tuck them in nicely, the way Scully had always done. All in anticipation of her returning again, and finding the bed just as she remembered and made just the way she liked. He never could bring himself to change the sheets though. He wasn’t about to wash any of her away.

Scully glanced him over, just a mound covered up to his neck in blankets. She smiled as her hands went to her waist and loosened the knot that held her robe together. She slid it off her shoulders and dropped it to the floor. She was wearing long, charcoal-coloured silk pyjamas underneath.

Mulder was surprised when she immediately reached for her top button, and began unfastening her pyjama top. She was down to the third button, which exposed her black lace bra, before Mulder could bring himself to stop her.

“Scully, don’t. You’ll freeze.” He said, not wanting to make her cold and uncomfortable. He felt ridiculous enough about the situation as it was.

“You’ll warm up faster with skin- to-skin contact.” She said, as she continued to undress. “I believe it was you who suggested as such, in the deep dark forests of Florida some years ago.”

It took Mulder a moment to remember what she was referencing. He suspected that Scully’s singing was the only reason he retained that memory. It always caught him by surprise when she would bring up incidences that occurred during their time working on The X-Files. It often seemed like she had forgotten – or perhaps she just wanted to forget – most of what happened during those years. He couldn’t blame her, after all she had suffered. But to forget was to leave behind the good with the bad. Mulder really didn’t want to leave behind the good.

He smiled fondly, as she slid down her pyjama pants, revealing her beautiful , creamy-white skin and black cotton underwear with a lace trim.

“I have no doubts I’m going to warm up faster this way.” He said, as she pulled the covers back and slid into bed next to him. She laid her head gently onto his chest, draping her arm across him and snuggling into him. Her thigh crossed the top of both of his legs, bathing him in the warmth of her skin. Mulder pulled the blankets across her back, covering the both of them. “And look how far we’ve come. I don’t even need a sleeping bag to get you naked.”

“Well, not quite.” She muttered against his chest. “I’m in my underwear.”

“Keep moving your thigh up and down like that and you won’t be for much longer.” Said Mulder, wrapping his arm underneath her and pulling her closer. “I’m cold, but I’m not dead.” He said, nuzzling his face into her hair. “Are you okay? I don’t want you turning into a popsicle on my account.”

“I’m fine, Mulder.” She answered, shivering slightly. “I’ve been through much worse.”

Mulder thought to himself that that was a massive understatement. His mind kept going back to Antarctica and how he’d pulled her freezing body out of that pod. It was one of the most frightening moments of his life when she had stopped breathing. It still would have been even if there hadn’t been aliens about to burst out of their chambers and rip them apart. The idea of Scully not breathing was a terrifying scenario. His heart still seized at the memory. He never wanted her to feel cold like that again.

“I’m sorry this happened. I wish I had an explanation.” Said Mulder, running his fingers up her back. He wish he could give her a reason as to why he’d allowed himself to develop hypothermia – something that would reassure her and ease her mind, but he honestly had no idea what had overcome him. His mind had gone somewhere and left his body behind.

“What happened? With William?” Scully asked, his name getting caught in her throat slightly, like she was afraid to ask.

Mulder wondered if he should tell her about the healing stunt that William had gifted him. If that had anything to do with his losing track of time and zoning out the way he had, he wasn’t sure he should mention it. It would only cause her more worry. Any other day he would be forthright, knowing she was strong and capable of handling just about anything. But after what she had been through today with Maggie and with William, all his instincts were screaming to comfort and protect her.

“He came downstairs after you had fallen asleep, he said goodbye and then he left.” Mulder informed her. “I followed him out. I didn’t want to let him go. I guess I stayed out there in hopes he would come back.”

“You stayed out there until you were hypothermic. What if Maggie hadn’t alerted me? What if I hadn’t come down until morning?” Scully asked, with concern in her voice.

“I was about to come in.” He answered, his hand sliding down to her lower back. The tip of his pinky finger slipped under the hem of her underwear. “It was like I was in some kind of daze, and then I woke up.”

“You don’t remember anything?” She asked.

“No. I just remember him leaving. Then I was stuck… somewhere. It’s all a blur.” Mulder replied. There was a moment of silence and Mulder knew Scully was preparing to say something.

“Do you realise that sounds like a dissociative episode?” She asked, finally.

“I know what you are thinking, Scully. I’m not losing my marbles again, I promise.” Mulder said, bringing his hand up to stroke her hair from her face.

“There’s no shame in it Mulder. You’ve had these episodes before. Severe trauma, like what we just experienced can have an extreme impact on the mind and body. It could be delayed shock, or acute stress disorder. Perhaps it was triggered by William leaving. Maybe it brought back memories of the previous times you’ve been separated from him.”

Mulder thought about it for a moment. That was only a handful of memories but each was more traumatic than the next. Leaving him as a vulnerable newborn because his presence put him in danger. Finding out he was given up for adoption and that he would never see his son again. Finding him dead with a gunshot to his head. Leaving him in the morgue in a bodybag. Watching him kill Erika Price and her operatives in a bloody explosion of body parts, before running away from him. Watching him be shot to death before falling into the cold, dark waters of the harbour.

“I guess it’s possible.” Mulder said, considering that indeed it did sound plausible. Something inside told him that wasn’t it though. “But I’m sure it won’t happen again.”

“If it does, we’ll deal with it together. Okay? Promise me you won’t ignore it or hide it from me. You have to let me help you. Promise me, Mulder.” She sounded stern, but also anxious.

“I promise. I know you are scared, and what you are scared of. But I’d never let that happen again, Scully.” He muttered into her hair.

“What scares me is that as much as things have changed, you are still the same stubborn ass you’ve always been. I worry that you may cope with denial and avoid seeking help in order to protect me, if you were to begin struggling again.”

Not for the first time Mulder wondered about the irony of Scully lecturing him about his inability to be vulnerable and ask for help. Mulder had spent many years of his life being frustrated by those same qualities in her. She was perhaps the worse of the two of them, when it came to admitting weakness and needing help. But that frustration at her stoicism put him in the perfect position to understand what she was saying.

“I promise, doc.” Mulder truly meant it from his heart. “I’ll talk to you. I’ll go back on medication. I’ll do anything it takes to stay well,” Mulder said, kissing her on the forehead. The rest of his fingers joined his pinky finger and slipped into her underwear. “But right now it’s hard to imagine there’s a single thing wrong in this world.”

“Feeling warmer?” She asked, leaning up to kiss the stubble on his chin.

“Much.” Mumbled Mulder, as he gave her ass a gentle squeeze.

“Did William tell you that he’d read all of the X-Files?” Scully asked.

“No. How?” Mulder asked, the shock evident in his voice. He felt astonishment in imagining the amount of details he must have garnered from those files. It was Mulder’s life’s work, and had become Scully’s for a time. The fact that his son now had that knowledge at his fingertips, filled him with hope and almost pride. That he knew of all he and Scully had been through together – at least what they had been willing to put in their reports – made him feel closer to William somehow.

“I guess with the same skill set he used to hack into the DOJ’s security.” Scully snickered. “I think he probably knows more about the X-Files than I can remember.”

“Well you are getting on in years.” Mulder said, eagerly anticipating her retaliation. It came swiftly in the form of a firm slap against his chest, as her teeth nipped playfully at his neck. Her lips lingered there for a moment, and he felt the familiar warmth of her breath bathing his skin. He could definitely feel the circulation returning to certain parts of his body.

“Or maybe he’s inherited your incredible memory along with the obvious thirst for rule breaking.” Scully smiled. Mulder could feel her body recoil as she realised what she had said – as the realised that was impossible since William wasn’t Mulder’s biological child. Or so she believed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” She mumbled against his chest, regret filling her insides. He pulled her waist tightly against him. She felt the comfort of it in her soul and somehow she didn’t feel cold anymore.

Mulder wondered if he should tell her now.

“He’s an amazing kid.” Whispered Mulder.

“Man. He’s a grown man now. He’s so different than the last time we saw him.” She said.

“Really? I didn’t think he’d changed much at all. Liking the shorter hair though.”

Scully couldn’t help but feel his shorter hair made him look like Mulder when she had first met him. Though she knew that had to be a coincidence.

“I don’t mean on the outside. What I felt from him was so much different than what I experienced six years ago. I can feel that he’s lonely. But he’s lost so much of that overwhelming fear and anger. For the first time, I felt like…” Scully could feel the tears prickling her eyes, and snuggled her face into Mulder’s neck. Mulder rubbed her back, hoping to comfort her enough that she could continue.

“Felt what?” He prompted.

“Like he loved me.” Scully whispered. “I know that probably sounds selfish. I shouldn’t expect anything like that from him.”

“Nonsense, Scully. He does. I’m sure he does.” Mulder soothed. “Nobody could know you and not love you… and he knows you now. He did tell you he’d been around for years, right? Since Maggie was a baby.”

“Yes, he told me.” Scully confirmed.

“I know I should be happy that he hasn’t been alone, but I find it infuriating.” Admitted Mulder. “I’m furious that he’s been forced into a life of isolation the way he has been.”

“He was just doing what you would have done.” Said Scully, knowing she was about to broach on a painful subject. She didn’t want to bring him any more stress after his apparent blackout, but she had something she wanted to say on the matter. Something she needed him to understand.

“What do you mean?” He whispered.

“Taking the hard road. Disappearing to protect his family. No matter how much it hurt.”

“You still think that was the right decision?” Asked Mulder.

It had taken him years to ask that question the first time. He was terrified to ask. He knew that regardless of whether it was the right choice, his absence had hurt her terribly, just as it had him. He knew there was certainly resentment and anger that there was even a need for him to leave in the first place. But somehow she had forgiven him. He could never forgive himself though.

“He believes it was. He’s alive. Given that we can never know what the outcome would be had you stayed, I think we can be satisfied that we did the best thing we could do for him. You need to forgive yourself Mulder.” Scully said, sadly.

She’d cried so many tears over the past six years, since Skinner had confirmed what she’d always feared. That she and William were part of a genetic experiment, and that Mulder was not her baby’s father. Though she knew that was how Mulder would always see himself, she hated that he had been burdened with this pain and guilt for so many years when he need not have been. He took it on, purely out of love for her and her child, but William was never his responsibility.

That pain and guilt, and sense of failure played a major role in his depression and mental breakdown. It was a large part of what had eventually driven them to separate. People might say that she had suffered a lot for having loved Fox Mulder, but he had suffered for her too. She knew that he would do anything in his power to protect her. He’d have given his life so the Scully could have William back. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t suffer for her. She bet if it came down to it, he would even walk through a burning building to rescue her, pyrophobia be damned.

She loved him to the depths of her soul, and all she wanted to do was to free him from the burden he still carried. After seeing William tonight, and seeing what a strong, determined young man he had grown to be, it had to be enough now. It had to end. No more regret or wondering what could have been. He was alive, and he was free. Not suffering. Not locked up in some facility like in the many nightmares she’d had when he was a child.

“Never. He’s my boy.” Said Mulder, plainly. “And I failed him. I couldn’t have failed him more as a father. He was only hours old and I left him. I left him. What kind of a man does that?”

Scully could hear the hatred and self-loathing in his voice.

“Mulder, you listen to me–!” Scully said, lifting her body on top of Mulder’s.

“No, you listen, Scully. I know I had no choice but to leave. But I had to leave because of the decisions I had already made. Because of the man I chose to be. That boy deserved better. You deserved better.” Scully’s lip began to tremble as she looked at Mulder with tears in her eyes. “I wish I could live another lifetime with you, to make up for all the things I got wrong in this one.”

Scully inched herself forward and brought her lips to his. He resisted for a moment, before accepting her affection, and responding. She sunk her tongue into his mouth as the tears fell from her eyes.

She wished for that to. To live a life with him over and over again. But she didn’t care if they got things right in this life or the next, just as long as they were together. That was enough. She knew she could accept the pain and the loss and the mistakes they made, just as long as Mulder was by her side. That was the only thing that mattered.

She pulled away from him and rested herself on his chest. Her legs wrapped around him. She sniffled softly as she rested her head on the pillow beside him, her nose pressed against his ear.

“I want to believe that we will.” She mumbled, softly.

Mulder wrapped both arms around her waist, and held her tightly. Neither of them felt cold anymore. He wondered how he’d ended up here. How he got so lucky as to find Scully in the first place. That someone like her should even exist. That she was here in his arms thirty years later, with their child sleeping in the next room, was some kind of miracle. He knew that if reincarnation was real… if soulmates were real… that she was his.

“He’s my son, Scully.” Said Mulder. His voice sounded remarkably casual for the amount of emotion he felt at saying the words out loud.

“I know, Mulder.” She answered, softly.

She knew he would never be anything else in Mulder’s eyes. He’d never let him go, no matter how much it hurt to hold on to the dream. He’d lost Samantha almost 50 years ago and still not a day went by when Mulder didn’t think of her.

“No, you don’t. I mean, he’s my biological child. He’s you and me with a little bit of alien DNA thrown in for good measure – just like Maggie.” He said. He wished she would lift her head up from his shoulder so he could see her face. That wish was granted a moment later as she propped herself up on his chest, straddling his waist

She didn’t look happy just yet. Mulder knew she would be doubtful, and perhaps even William’s word on the matter wouldn’t be enough.

“What are you saying to me, Mulder?” Scully asked, looking very serious and almost grim.

“I’m saying that if William was an experiment, the sperm sample I gave that clinic for our attempt at IVF was first on the list of ingredients.” He said, reaching out and settling his hands on her waist.

“That can’t be true.” She said, in utter disbelief.

“According to William it is. He managed to track down the head honcho, and subsequently the files related to his conception.” Explained Mulder. “Dr. Masao Matsumoto.”

“No, Mulder.” Scully said, shaking her head.

“Yes, Scully.” He insisted. He couldn’t help but smile a little.

“No.” She protested, unwilling to let herself believe.

Mulder just nodded.

Scully continued to shake her head. Her expression was one of anguish now, but Mulder knew what she was really feeling. She forced herself to meet his eyes and Mulder could see in her sparkling, blue pools a mixture of fear and hope. She was afraid to believe, but she so desperately wanted to. A few seconds later she threw herself into him. She started sobbing.

“He’s mine.” Whispered Mulder. He brought his hand up and let his fingers tangle in her red hair. He held her gently against his chest. “He’s ours.”

“It can’t be.” She managed to get out as she wept. 

“It’s okay. You don’t have to believe. But I do.” He said, kissing her on the top of her hair. “I always did.”

“I want to. I want to so badly.” She spluttered.

“Maybe, when we see him again… we can find out if he still has access to his file. I imagine it details at least some or what happened to you. If you want to know, that is.”

“I do. It would be a relief to know. I’m certain it can’t be any worse than what I have imagined.” Sniffled Scully.

“Okay. We’ll ask him.” Mulder kissed her again.

Minutes passed as Mulder continued to cradle her against him. Her sobs quieted, and eventually she stilled completely. When her breathing became deep and relaxed he wondered if she had fallen asleep. Not that he had any complaints.

Even though she had put on a few pounds since Maggie’s birth she was still light as a feather. He thoroughly enjoyed this cozy Scully blanket, and knew he could sleep like this – he’d done it dozens of times over the years. Though the number was more likely in the hundreds. Sometimes after she’d climax she would simply lie down on his chest and fall asleep, sleepy and satisfied.

“I love you, baby.” Whispered Mulder.

“Baby?” Muttered Scully. The unexpected noise startled Mulder.

“Damn it, Scully. I thought you were asleep.” He said, chuckling.

“Evidently.” She smiled to herself over the pet name she rarely let him get away with using. She smiled even more when she wondered how many times she’d been called that while she was sleeping. “I love you too _._ ” She said, arching her head to look at him. He kissed her on the forehead. “We should get some sleep though – Maggie will be up in a couple of hours.”

“I’m surprised that she hasn’t snuck in here already. Maybe we should check on her?”

“She’s okay. She’s sleeping.” Said Scully.

Mulder knew from her tone that Scully was certain. Since Maggie was a baby, Scully had always known where Maggie was. It was like Scully had an internal compass that directed her straight to her child. She could also sense her emotions, or if she was in danger or about to be injured.

They had tested the strength of this bond when Maggie was 18 months old. Mulder had driven for hours, crossed state lines, travelling hundreds of miles from home with Maggie in the back seat. She’d slept for most of the time, lulled to sleep by the white noise of the car engine.

He did not tell Scully where he was going, or even knew where he was headed when he left their home in the early hours of the morning. He just drove, taking the most roundabout routes, and backroads to get from town to town and stopping once he’d reached a remote location in Ohio in the late afternoon.

Just as they’d agreed, Scully got in her car three hours after he had left. Just like Mulder she tracked every road and pathway she traveled on a map, but the only guidance she had for the direction she was heading were her own instincts.

Mulder spent that evening on the floor of a motel room, trying his best to entertain a rambunctious toddler who repeatedly asked for her mommy. It wasn’t that she wasn’t completely comfortable with Mulder – she would have asked for him too if Scully had been the one with her. At the time Scully hadn’t yet returned to work and Maggie wasn’t used to being separated from either of them for a prolonged time.

It was only a little over two hours after checking in to the motel, that there was a knock at the door of their room. Maggie had hopped up excitedly, running to the door squealing _“Mommy!”_ Mulder believed it was possible that Scully would find them, or he would never have proposed the experiment. Still, his breath hitched in his chest as he braced himself and looked through the peephole. There the love of his life stood – looking as gorgeous as she always did, with a look of astonishment on her face. He opened the door and Maggie ran straight into her arms, wanting to be held by her mother.

Mulder and Scully compared their maps and found that Scully had followed their exact travel path, even the remote dirt roads that Mulder was sure Scully would overlook. She’d also travelled it in a significantly quicker time, not having to stop and tend to a toddler half a dozen times.

“Well you are a Maggie barometer. I’ll stay put. Wouldn’t want to miss out on this.” He said, sliding his hands down her back and slipping his hands into her underwear.

“I’m not so sure about that.” Scully mumbled against his chest.

“Sure about what?” Asked Mulder.

“What happened yesterday. I didn’t see it. I didn’t sense it. I don’t understand why or how. Why would this ability allow me to protect her from a scrape on the knee or a bug bite, but not help me prevent a fatal accident? It makes no sense. It scares me. I’m beginning to wonder if my connection to her is fading and is going to weaken as she ages.”

“That’s a pretty big leap.” Said Mulder.

“Is it? How do you explain it?” She asked, hoping he’d come out with one of his amazing theories that she would never think of herself.

“Perhaps someone else interrupted the signal this time.” Mulder proposed. “I think there’s a connection between the two of them that we didn’t realise before now. Did he tell you about his vision of Maggie?”

“Yes. He told me more than that. The way that Maggie can sometimes read our thoughts… William can do the same for Maggie. I can read her feelings, but William can read her mind, just as she can his. They can communicate telepathically. That’s how she knows William, when we haven’t seen him in over five years.”

“He told me he’s been here… Birthdays. Christmases.”

“Do you remember when Maggie was a baby, and she used to giggle and point when nothing was there?” Scully asked. “Or how after she learned to talk, she would have long conversations with her stuffed animals? Responding to them as if they were speaking to her, or asking her questions?”

“You think it was William?”

“I’m almost certain of it.” Said Scully.

Mulder paused to think about the years he’d spent raising Maggie, scanning all the memories that came to his mind for anomalies.

“The purple duck.” Mulder announced, as if he had discovered something.

“What?”

“That purple duck that she sleeps with.” Said Mulder. “Remember when she was about two, and she fell in love with the book about the purple duck? Then a few days later she wanders over to me and hands me a stuffed, purple duck and neither of us knew where it came from?”

Scully smiled, pondering if it was a gift from her big brother. She’d carried it around most of her second year of life. The only toy more beloved to her was her stuffed Sasquatch, which to this day claimed the title of favourite toy.

“I guess I can no longer make fun of your haunted house theory.” Chuckled Scully.

Over the years they would sometimes hear footsteps, or objects would move or fall to the floor. Scully dismissed the footsteps as a figment of their imagination and the moving objects as forgetfulness. On the few occasions they had witnessed things moving with their own eyes, she theorised that it may be a new manifestation of Maggie’s abilities. She had seen William move the mobile over his crib when he was just an infant, so she would not be surprised if Maggie could do similar.

“I don’t pretend to know how this all works. But maybe William was called to her this time, because he has developed the ability to heal. He didn’t have that before. Perhaps this process of symbiosis between family members calls upon the one who can best meet the individuals need. But I can only speculate. I don’t feel what you feel. I wish I could.”

“She’s just as connected to you, Mulder. That’s why she woke from a deep sleep and asked me to get you a blanket. She knew that you were dangerously cold. Even in sleep she senses you, and protects you. The signal between you two is there – it’s just that you can’t feel it because your DNA hasn’t been tampered with. The two of you are like a two way radio, but one of the receivers is broken. She hears you though.”

“You calling me a broken radio, woman?” Asked Mulder, in mock outrage.

“I’ve called you worse things.” She retorted.

“Well that’s true. All well-earned I’m sure.” He said, sliding one of his hands out of her underwear and up her back, landing at the hook of her bra.

Sexual escapades aside, he could probably count the number of times she’d called him names on two hands. When Scully was angry or hurt she got distant, not mean. She was too controlled to lash out. During his lowest moments Mulder had done everything he could to provoke her, frustrated she wouldn’t bite back. He’d deserved a lot worse than he got, and Scully deserved a lot better. If he ever somehow encountered his younger self he’d knock his ass on the ground. 

***

Mulder was trapped. It was an empty, barren space where he was surrounded by nothing tangible. There were jumbled sounds echoing in his mind and he was encircled by a blur of colours. He was floating, and there was nothing to grasp on to… nothing was solid. This is where he had been, and where he was once again. He was lost somewhere in the depths of his mind. He couldn’t think – he could only receive this bombardment on his senses. He had no control. He couldn’t wake. He couldn’t escape.

The sounds skipped through his mind like a radio scanning through an endless sea of channels – all too brief and indistinct to identify. As the moments passed here in this strange void, Mulder recognised that the sounds were not endless at all… it was a _cycle_. It was a cycle that repeated over and over again, and with every cycle that passed, he _learned_.

There was a pattern in the sounds and in the colours. The blur of sounds became syllables and music, birds chirping… babies crying… no… just one baby. _Maggie._ Maggie was crying! She was crying for her daddy. She needed him. As the cycle repeated again, he listened for her. He searched for her cries in the vast ocean of noise. All his focus was on finding that one sound… his baby girl.

“Maggie”… her name poured from his lips in desperation. She was lost in the noise and he couldn’t find her. He heard her cry once more, and he clung to it… desperate to reach her… wherever she was. The short sound of the cry became elongated, and the colours swirling around him slowed and began to form shapes.

Slowly her cries became louder, and closer and the shapes before him became recognisable. The ground became solid underneath him, and the picture before him came into focus, appearing as real and tangible as anything he’d experienced. This was Maggie’s bedroom, back when it had been her nursery. Her crib stood in the middle of the room – the crying coming from within. Mulder took a step towards it, and felt the spring of the carpet under his feet as he walked.

In just a few short strides – his heart beating in his chest – he reached her. His Maggie. She couldn’t have been more than six months old. She was dressed in a white romper with bright pink flowers printed on it. He never thought he would see her this small again. He reached down to pick her up. He didn’t know what was happening to him, but he knew his daughter needed him. He brought her into his arms, just as he had done thousands of times when she was a baby.

“Shhh. It’s okay. Daddy’s got you.” He said, placing her over his shoulder and starting to bounce her up and down. “Or have you got Daddy? I have no idea what’s going on, but it’s so good to see you.”

Mulder marveled at how small and light she was in his arms. She was so precious and tiny. He’d felt the days pass like hours when she was this age. He’d wanted it all to slow down, and to keep her this small until he was ready for her to grow. She changed so quickly, and grew so fast. He supposed all parents must feel the same way. But that she was their miracle baby – the one Scully had waited her whole life for – it made the feeling that time was rushing by even more pronounced.

He glanced out the window and saw the fields of green grass and the blooms on certain trees in the distance. He’d spent twenty years in this house, and he could tell from the nature that surrounded it what time of year it was. It was definitely early spring.

“Mulder?” Scully called, suddenly appearing in the doorway. “What are you doing back so soon? Did you forget something?” She asked as she entered the room and strode towards them.

“Uh…” Mulder said, completely unsure of how to answer. This felt so real. He couldn’t distinguish it from real life if he tried. “I’m not sure.”

“You’re not sure?” Scully asked, raising her eyebrows. Her eyes were bright and shining at him, the way they always did when she was happy. Barely a day had passed in the last five years when her eyes didn’t sparkle like that. “Well we’re down to our last three diapers, so you better figure it out and head to the store.”

“Right.” Said Mulder, the memory of this day was beginning to come back to him. The day she had sent him to the store for diapers and he’d come back with a porch swing tied to the roof rack. “I guess I just needed one last kiss.”

He kissed Maggie on her chubby, pink cheek as he rocked from side to side on his feet. Her cries had stopped pretty much immediately when she was picked up. Now she made adorable cooing sounds against his shoulder. Mulder kissed her again on her hair, nuzzling her soft red ringlets with his nose. Her hair at age five was verging on brown, but for years it had been this perfect Scully red.

“Don’t I get one too?” Scully asked, leaning towards him and propping herself up on her toes. Mulder smiled and leant downwards to meet her lips. She felt warm and familiar and so, so real.

As he pulled away from her, he noticed how plump and healthy her cheeks looked. She’d gained about 30lbs while pregnant, and kept about half of that weight for quite a while. Somehow it only emphasised her beauty. It added a roundness to her hips, and a softness to her ribs that made her all the more sexy.

Her robe was undone, revealing her black tank top underneath, and her full, taut breasts. He’d almost forgotten what breastfeeding had done to her body. Though he had to wait in line behind a hungry baby, he was more than happy to do so. Maggie had never been an obstacle in their love life. In fact the happiness and bonding she brought between them only increased it.

Scully smiled at him and brought her hand up to cover his, landing on Maggie’s back.

“I know she has you wrapped around her little finger, but you have to leave her some time.”

“I guess I just missed her… and you.” Mulder smiled.

He’d been trapped inside a dreamland like this once before, many, many years ago. But that life hadn’t been his. This life was his. This was his Scully and his child. This didn’t feel like a prison, or a lie… it felt like remembering... like the happiness of the past flowing back to him.

“How do you even have a chance to miss us?” Scully asked, shaking her head and grinning.

“Come here.” Said Mulder, reaching his free arm out to her.

Scully stepped towards him, closing the distance between them. Mulder felt her arms wrap around him, the same way he’d felt a thousand times. It was her… it was Scully. He held both of his girls in his arms – cherishing them. His heart was full.

As he held them the rush of sound started to build in his ears. Quiet at first, but growing louder and louder until he couldn’t hear anything other than the bombardment. The world around him washed away. Scully washed away. Maggie disappeared from his arms. He was floating again. Lost. But this time he had some idea how to find his way out of here. He had to listen. He had to find a sound he recognised and focus on it… travel to the time and place it resided.

Her voice was there amongst the sounds… _Samantha._ Laughing. Happy. Just as he remembered her before she was stolen from him. If this were ten, twenty, thirty years ago… Nothing could have competed with this sound. There was nothing he’d wanted more than to find her. But he knew she was at peace now, wherever her spirit was. She didn’t need him.

But Scully… she _needed_ him. He could hear her. Sobbing. In pain. That sound cut him like a knife, and though it hurt, he did all he could to focus on it and bring the sound closer to him. He did everything he could to bring her to him. And suddenly she was there… in the next room… with the man he wanted to throat-punch so badly.

Mulder took a step towards the door of his study so he could hear her better. The door was wide open and he could see himself sitting there, with his back turned to her.

“I have to do this. I’m not even sure if you are listening to me, or if you care. I just can’t do this anymore. I can’t stand your silence.”

He had been listening, when he’d lived through this the first time. He’d felt angry, abandoned, resentful ... but mostly he just felt relieved. He was relieved she was finally leaving him. He wouldn’t have the ability to hurt her anymore, and she wouldn’t have to waste another day of her life bearing witness to the pathetic failure he had become. Even in this state of mental collapse, he knew she deserved more, and knowing that he wasn’t what she needed crushed every last good feeling he had inside.

Hearing the brokeness in her voice now, it made him so angry. Seeing the way that he sat there, pretending she wasn’t even there, made him ball his fists up in anger.

“Please say something… even just… _goodbye.”_ Scully practically begged.

She waited for a moment… she waited for the word that would never be spoken. He could never say goodbye to Scully. He would never condone her leaving by saying that word – even though he wanted what was best for her. The selfishness in him was too strong. What he truly wanted was for her to remain by his side… _always_. When push came to shove, he wasn’t able to let her go. He never did let her go, even for a moment.

Mulder backed away from the door and headed up the staircase. He knew Scully would be up here in a few moments to collect her things. He glanced down at the living room, which looked cold and strange without all of Maggie’s brightly-coloured belongings. How different their lives would one day become.

Mulder quickly darted into their bedroom. He could see her suitcase waiting for her, beside the bed. In a few minutes she would retrieve it and she would be gone.

She’d be gone only a few days before he would see her again. She came back when he didn’t answer his phone… afraid he might be dead. Even when she left she couldn’t be free of him. She would never stop worrying. She’d spent over two decades rescuing him – sometimes from others but more often from himself – and just like Mulder didn’t know how to be anything different, neither did Scully. She couldn’t let him go either.

Mulder sat down on the bed, suitcase beside his feet. He could hear her footsteps echoing down the hallway. She was beginning to contain her sobs now. He was grateful for how few times in his life he’d heard her cry like that. Every pained gasp tore at his insides. Knowing that he was the reason filled him with such shame and remorse. She was hurting because she loved him, and for no other reason.

Mulder took a deep breath, wondering how she would react – wondering what he should say. Would it even be of any consequence if this wasn’t real? But it was difficult to believe this was not real. This day felt as real as the first time he’d lived it.

Scully had once told him that this was one of the worst days of her life – it was one of his too. She stepped into the room, looking towards the ground and partly blinded by tears, before she noticed him there.

“Scully.” He said gently. As he spoke, he realized that even his voice must seem different to her. Almost ten years had passed since this day in 2014.

“Mul–.” She stammered. “Who are you?” She demanded, taking a step backwards. She looked shaken, but he wasn’t sure how much of that was due to this confrontation, or the highly emotional state she was already in.

Mulder considered rising to his feet and approaching her, but he didn’t want to intimidate her. Not that his Scully was ever easily intimidated.

“It’s me, Scully. It’s Mulder.” He said.

“No. Mulder is downstairs. So I will ask you again… who are you?” She said, sternly. Even with tears in her eyes, Mulder felt her strength.

“Look, Scully. I don’t know how to explain this. I don’t think any of this is real. But even if it isn’t, I have some things I need to say.”

Mulder climbed to his feet, and stepped towards her. She didn’t back away. She stared straight at him – looking him in the eye. She was so beautiful, even when her face was wet and reddened with tears. Her gorgeous long red hair flowed over her shoulders and down to her back. It had been a long time since he’d seen it this long. She’d cut it soon after leaving – a symbolism of being free and embracing change he guessed.

“Then say it… whoever you are.” Scully said, sounding defeated. She looked broken, and almost uninterested. He could see the anger as well as the sadness in her eyes. Whether or not she believed he was Mulder, she was certainly reacting to him like he was the man downstairs.

Mulder took off his thick-rimmed spectacles, which had become a permanent feature on his face the past few years. Though he’d always needed glasses, he could no longer get by without them. He laid them on the same bedside table that they used to this day.

“It’s me, Scully. It’s really me.” He said, hoping she would see the truth in his eyes. She usually could.

“I don’t believe you.” She answered. “But if I did… why are you here? What do you want?”

“You, Scully.” He said, taking a step towards her and hoping she wouldn’t retreat. “I want you. I want you to not be in pain. I want you to know how sorry I am, and how god damn loved you are. He…” Mulder looked downwards as if to gesture downstairs. “He can’t tell you those things, right now. But they are true. He’s sorry right now. He’s been sorry for years, and will be for years to come. He hates that you are hurting. He hates hurting you. That’s why he’s not going to stop you when you walk out that door. It’s not because he doesn’t care. He wishes you would have left long ago, but at the same time, he wishes you won’t ever leave – because you are the best thing that ever happened to him.”

She looked so vulnerable, and so hurt. But as he spoke he could see that the words he so desperately needed to say were the ones she so desperately needed to hear. It didn’t seem to matter to her that he wasn’t her current Mulder – he was a close enough approximation to give her comfort.

“Mulder… is it really you?” She asked, tears streaming from her eyes.

“Yes. It is.” He reached for her hand, and to his amazement she let him take it. He pulled her hand up onto his chest and laid it over his heart. She was recognising him now. Not as the man downstairs that was breaking her heart, but the one she had fallen in love with so many years before. The one who had fought for her, and protected her, and loved her with everything he had.

One hand clutched hers to his chest and the other reached out to cup her cheek. He stroked his thumb back and forth lovingly. She felt so real. Her pain felt so real.

“It’s going to be okay. All of this. We are.” Mulder said, tears welling in his own eyes thinking about the joy of finding her again and their little girl coming into the world. “I promise.”

Scully nodded her head.

“You can’t imagine just how perfect everything will be. I know you have to leave now. But one day you’ll come back. You’ll come back and you’ll stay, and we’ll have the life together that we always should have had.”

Mulder wanted to pull her into his arms. He wanted to kiss her, and do even more than that, but he wasn’t sure if that’s what she wanted or needed.

He released hand and turned around to look at her suitcase.

“I’ll carry your suitcase to the car for you.” He said, turning and walking over to the bed.

“I don’t want you to do that.” Said Scully, looking lost and abandoned.

“What _do_ you want?” Asked Mulder, knowing he’d give her almost anything she asked for.

“I want you to tell me how you feel about me.” She said, her voice breaking.

Mulder understood what she meant. He understood what she needed. How long had she gone without hearing those words?

“I love you, Scully.” Said Mulder. “I loved you the moment you stepped into my office all of those years ago, and I’ll love you until my last breath.”

She broke then. After all of the hopelessness and years of trying to be strong, there was an insurmountable wave of grief spilling out of her that could no longer be contained.

Within a moment he was standing in front of her and wrapping himself around her. He half-expected her to push him away, but she made no attempt to resist him. Her arms reached around his waist and she pulled him tightly against her body as if she were clinging to him for dear life. Somehow it physically hurt him that the tears being shed against his chest were of his creation. He’d done this to her. His poor, perfect, beautiful, strong, towering red oak Scully.

“He loves you too.” He whispered into her hair. “He just can’t say it. He doesn’t want to give you a reason to stay this time. He did once before, and look what it got you?”

“I don’t want to leave him. Not like this.” She sobbed.

“I know. But you have to.” Said Mulder. His hand was now cradling the base of her neck. “You deserve better than this. Better than what he can give you right now. Look at me, Scully.” She did. She looked up at him with her blue eyes filled with water and grief. “You deserve so much more than this. You always did.”

Scully’s hand reached up to stroke the soft whiskers on his chin.

“Mulder.” She spoke in barely a whisper. She smiled softly, as the tears continued to fall. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’d say I’ve missed you too... but… I just saw you.” He replied.

“Where?” Asked Scully.

“In bed.” Mulder turned around slightly, nodding at the bed. “Your bed.” He smiled at her. “Our bed.”

“Oh.” She didn’t return his smile, but instead stared at the bed behind him, looking dejected.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.” She answered, pulling away from his embrace.

“Scully, I lived this. You couldn’t hide from me even if you tried.” He said, gently.

“Time travel isn’t possible.” She said with the oppositional tone that had thrilled him since the day he’d met her.

“Do I have to bring up your graduate thesis again?” He smiled at her. “Now, what is it?”

She paused and looked away, as if she was embarrassed.

“He doesn’t come to bed anymore.” She sounded almost ashamed. “It’s been over a month since he’s touched me.”

“He doesn’t think he deserves to touch you.” Said Mulder, reaching out and taking her hand into his. “He doesn’t come to bed because he knows he could never say no.”

She nodded, but Mulder could tell she wasn’t sure if she believed him or not.

“Hey. When could I ever?” Mulder added, smiling at her with his usual cheeky grin. “Even though I’m an old man now, I still want you all the damn time.”

Her tears had slowed but they were still there, threatening to fall. What Mulder really wanted to do was pick her up, throw her on the bed and fuck all of her pain away. He was certain she wouldn’t want that though, given her current feelings towards the man downstairs. Nor was he sure she was even attracted to him, given their age difference. This Scully was thirteen years his junior.

“Will you lie down with me?” Mulder asked. His intentions were honorable. He knew what she needed more than anything right now was love and connection. Conversation is what always brought them together. “FYI... completely unrelated to the last statement I made.”

“For what reason?” She asked. She didn’t immediately reject the idea, which was a good sign to Mulder.

“Just to be with me.” He gave her hand a comforting squeeze.

Mulder could see her debating the decision in her mind. There was doubt there, but once she made contact with his eyes she decided she could trust him. Deep down, she knew it was him, and so she nodded her head.

They each took to their designated side of the bed. Mulder was closest to the door. He’d always believed that he should be closest to the door in case of an intruder, or some other unwelcomed guest paid them a visit in the middle of the night.

Mulder stared up, noting that the slight stain on the ceiling that he’d seen every morning for the past year was gone. Maggie had thrown one of those rubbery, sticky-hand toys up there which Mulder had had to knock down with a broom. Those toys weren’t annoying enough, being covered in filth after half an hour of play, but this particular one left behind a sticky red residue that had stained the ceiling paint pink. He smiled to himself, remembering Scully slapping him on the ass as he tried to dislodge it from the ceiling, telling him that she’d warned him. She had in fact warned him, but he couldn’t say no to Maggie over a $2 novelty toy. Childhood was about senseless fun.

Mulder turned his head to the side and realised Scully was staring at him with a look of fascination on her face.

“What is it?” He asked.

“You’re smiling.” She stated, as if it was some impossible feat.

“I’m happy.”

“Why?”

“I’m here with you, aren’t I?” He beamed at her.

“I never thought I would see you like this again.” She said, rolling onto her side and facing him.

Mulder mirrored her actions and maneuvered onto his side as well.

“I know you didn’t.” He muttered. “But you know I get off on proving you wrong – or at least trying to. Always have.”

“What is this?” She asked.

“What is what?”

“You can’t really be here.” Said Scully.

“Maybe I’m not.” Answered Mulder. “I can already see your mind ticking away. Stress induced hallucination? Clone? Dream? Eddie Van Blundht? But it feels real to me. This feels real to you doesn’t it? This feels like you and me. Maybe that’s enough?”

“Enough for a man who has spent the majority of his life searching for answers?” Scully asked doubtfully.

“I don’t think I’ll be here long. I don’t want to spend the time asking why. I just want to be with you… While I can.”

Scully nodded. Mulder could tell that these words hurt her. Part of him was waiting for the world to wash away again, without giving him the chance to say goodbye.

“I wish I could stay here with you. Be what you need now.” He tried to comfort her.

“I’ll be okay.” She murmured.

“One day you’ll be more than okay. I promise you that.” Mulder rested his hand on top of hers, their hands resting in the space between them.

“What’s gonna happen?” She asked.

“I can’t spoil the surprise. It’s a really good one, and you should get to enjoy every moment of it as it unfolds.” He couldn’t help but smile thinking of Maggie’s arrival into the world. She was Scully’s little princess. A little princess who liked to play in the mud and spent more time dirty than clean.

Scully nodded. He could see the glimmer of hope in her eyes, but there was still mostly grief.

“Tell me something about yourself that you’ve never told me before.” Asked Mulder.

“Why?” She asked, furrowing her brow.

“So I can take part of you away with me when I leave.” Answered Mulder.

Scully paused and thought for a moment.

“When I was about four years old, my brother Charlie became seriously ill with rheumatic fever.” Said Scully. A slight smile formed at the corner of Mulder’s lips. Scully noticed. “That’s an odd thing to smile about.”

“I was smiling about you praying for a puppy.” Answered Mulder.

Maggie had been begging for a puppy since she was three. Mulder and Scully had agreed to wait until she was a little older and could take some responsibility for the dog herself. Well Maggie was older now, and Scully would be retiring in just a few months, when she turned sixty. Neither Maggie or Scully knew it, but he had been scouring the websites of local animal shelters for the past month. This Christmas they were finally getting a dog. He was sure Scully was going to pretend to be mad for about 0.2 seconds, before falling in love with the hairball.

“I’ve never told you about that.” Said Scully, with a look of confusion.

“You will. One day.” Answered Mulder.

She had told him that story many years ago, while she sat beside him in a church. She’d stood beside him in that same church and told him that she wanted to come home… for good this time. They hadn’t been apart since.

“I have a feeling that may not be the only Christmas a puppy comes into your life.” Mulder said, lifting his hand away from hers and stroking her hair away from her face.

She still looked so teary and sad, but these words brought a pained smile to her face. It was so strange and unfamiliar to see her in this state. She had been so happy for so many years now. The only thing that still pained her was William’s absence, and he felt that that wound too would soon heal. But he hadn’t forgotten how much pain she was once in. He couldn’t forget.

“Tell me something else. Maybe something you’ve always been scared to tell me.” Said Mulder, his fingers trailing down to her ear and thumbing her earlobe.

“When I was a child, I had a crush on Davy Jones.” She whispered.

“Davy Jones?”

Mulder couldn’t help himself, he burst into laughter. His hand left her earlobe and went on to cover his eyes.

“Shut up, Mulder!” Said Scully, though she was beginning to laugh herself.

Mulder dropped his hand away from his face and patted her hand reassuringly. He stifled his laughter.

“I completely understand why in thirty years, you have never shared this information with me.” Said Mulder.

He was smiling and so was she.

_“Girl, look what you’ve done to me. Me, and my whole world.”_ Mulder sang, grasping onto the hand beneath his.

“Mulder, stop!” She cringed, but she loved it. Mulder actually had a very pleasant singing voice.

_“Girl, you brought the sun to me. With your smile, you did it girl.”_ Mulder continued, loving how it lit her up. _“I’m telling you girl, something unknown to me. Makes you what you are. And what you are, is all that I want for me. And it’s good to feel that way, girl.”_

Scully dissolved into tears. It had been years since Mulder had showed her this level of affection. Mulder understood. His mission here was to ease her pain and make her feel loved. Because he did love her more than life itself.

“Come here.” He said, reaching for her shoulder and pulling her towards him.

She was so depressed and so defeated, she didn’t fight any comfort he had to offer. She’d seen the love in his eyes… a love she’d thought was almost dead. She had gone without for so long. She was so thirsty for his love that it made her unusually pliable and she crawled willingly into his arms. He wrapped himself around her, one arm underneath her, the other cradling her back. He draped his leg over the top of hers, encasing them and bringing her closer. He pulled her as close as he could and tucked her underneath his chin, in a position so familiar to him. His chest absorbed her sadness and her sobs.

Mulder started humming a familiar tune.

_“Thank you girl, for making the winter warmer.”_ He sang, so slowly that the melody was almost lost, and it came out more like speech. _“Girl, for making the music softer. Girl, for making a better world for me”_

“Mulder?” Scully’s voice was muffled by his chest.

“Yes?” He answered, before kissing her on top of the head.

“Why do you know all the lyrics?” She asked.

“I…” Mulder was caught out. “Don’t start with me, Scully.”

Her body shuddered as she giggled against his warm body – her chest still heaving involuntarily from her crying spell.

“This is what I get for serenading you?” He continued. “I get accused of owning a Monkees album?”

“I don’t recall mentioning The Monkees.” She grinned against his chest.

“I’ll tell you, Scully. When you are already the weird and smart kid, whose kid sister was abducted by aliens, you don’t want it getting around school that you own a Monkees album.” Scully was laughing now. “If it weren’t for my classically handsome good looks and sporting prowess I wouldn’t have survived.”

“Classically handsome?” She said, pulling away from him enough that she could look at him. Her eyes were red, her face was tear-stained, but she was so, so beautiful. Mulder’s heart ached to take her pain away.

“Won you over, didn’t I? Let’s face it Scully, if I looked like Frohike you would have been out of there that first year.” He joked.

“You think I’m that shallow?” She asked.

“Apparently not. I’m starting to get all wrinkly and grey and you’re still hanging around. Must be true love.” Said Mulder.

“I must be ageing too.”

“Sexier than ever.” Said Mulder, moving his hand down to rest on her hip. “And that’s not empty flattery. I want you all the time.”

“Do you want me now?” She asked. Her lower lip quivered as she spoke, and Mulder could see how exposed she felt.

“Of course I do.” Mulder swallowed, dryly. “I always have.”

“That’s not true. He fucks me. But it’s been so long since…”

Mulder knew what she meant. It had been so long since she felt wanted. It had been so long since he actually made love to her. Mulder remembered those last months. He remembered her crying once he’d finished because she knew his heart and mind weren’t present. He was numb. He was touching her but he couldn’t feel much of anything where it actually mattered. He couldn’t connect with her, and that hurt her so deeply.

“I know, Scully. I know.” He said, pulling her back into his arms. “It’ll be alright. We will find our way back… one day.”

She clutched onto the fabric of his shirt, holding on to him like she didn’t ever want to let go. This was killing Mulder. For so many years in their working relationship, she’d held him back – she’d shut him out because she was afraid to love him. She was afraid to be loved by him, because she feared that one day it would lead to this… Heartbreak and unimaginable pain. He’d promised faithfully that this would never happen, because he was so in love with her that he couldn’t imagine ever knowingly hurting her or wanting to be separated from her. Mulder knew that the man downstairs hadn’t dissolved into this state by choice, but the result was the same regardless. He’d broken her heart.

Mulder arched his head down and kissed her lovingly on the forehead.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispered. “You have to know how much I love you.”

“Then show me…” She whispered back. “Please?”

She raised her head and looked into his eyes. He knew what she was asking, but he couldn’t quite believe she was.

“You want me?” Mulder asked, softly. She nodded her head. “Even like this?”

“Like what?”

“Old and greying.”

“You’re you.” She said, her beautiful blue eyes drawing him in. He could see within them how desperately she missed him.

Her Mulder hadn’t been himself for years now. He’d pretended for her benefit – because he still remembered how much he loved her – but it was like living life with an empty husk. They both knew it was a lie, and Scully felt more alone with him than without. The hospital and her work had become her sanctuary. 

“You’re sure?” He asked, swiping her hair behind her ear.

Scully’s eye caught sight of what it hadn’t before and she reached up and took hold of his wrist. She pulled his hand away from her face and examined the band of silver metal that adorned his ring finger.

“What is this?” She asked, staring at his wedding band in disbelief.

“My wedding ring.” His heart filled with joy, witnessing the realisation fall upon her. She looked utterly perplexed and yet there was hope and happiness springing forth under the surface. “Do you wanna see?” Mulder pulled his hand free and slipped the ring off of his finger. He handed it to her, practically beaming at her. It was a beautiful, perfect day, the day she had finally said yes. “Here. Read the inscription.”

Scully twirled the ring through her thumb and forefinger, allowing the light to hit the inner rim of the ring. It was a beautiful white-gold band. There engraved into the precious metal were the words… _I remain forever yours…_

“You sent those words to me years ago, at a time I was alone and afraid, and unsure of my ability to go on. Those words brought more comfort to me than you will ever know. It was your strength that saw me through that. Through everything. Knowing that you were mine, and that you loved me, has saved me more times than I can count.”

He watched her face as she examined the band. The amount of love he felt as she turned to him with tears falling from her eyes was overwhelming. He felt it surge through his body, enlivening every cell that made up his being. He smiled at her, with so much warmth radiating from him, as she took his hand and slid the ring back onto his finger. It felt just like the day they were married… when she placed the ring on his hand symbolising her renewed faith in him… when she’d made the promise of being his forever.

“Make love to me?” She said, wiping the tears away from her face.

“Of course I will.” Mulder answered, helping her brush the liquid off of her cheeks with his hand. “Lie down.”

Every time he was with her, he made an effort. He always aimed to satisfy her first and himself second. He wondered then, how could he make this special for her when he always tried to make it special. What she needed above all was connection to him and to feel loved by him, much more so than physical pleasure. The shell downstairs could give her physical pleasure… what she was asking for was his love.

Scully laid down on the bed, propping her head up on a pillow. She looked vulnerable and nervous – so unlike how she usually was in the bedroom. Usually she took charge and demanded what she wanted, which he was certainly happy to oblige. He’d had a physical relationship with her for twenty-four years and he knew every inch of her. But the man she knew was not the man he was now. He was healthy and happy and had years more experience under his belt, and his special expertise was working Scully’s body. They’d learnt new things together, but Mulder felt in this instance, he need not stray from the basics.

He sat beside her horizontal body, facing towards her, and hovering above her. She was wearing a red, button-up blouse. He trailed his fingers along her neck and over her collarbone, before finding the top button. He could see her breathing heavier just from this slightest of touches. He loosened the button, sliding it through the fabric and pulling it undone. He’d ripped blouses like this straight off of her, but he knew this was not what she craved this time. She wanted him to be slow, delicate and thorough.

One by one he released the buttons, exposing her peach-coloured bra and beautiful, milky skin. Her ribs stuck out more than his Scully’s. He’d forgotten how thin she had gotten when things were at their worst. She also had no stretch marks on her belly, which five years post-partum had faded to a delicate silver colour. He loved those marks – they reminded him of the precious gift she’d given him when she’d carried his child and brought her into the world. They also reminded him of how badly she’d wanted him while she had all those pregnancy hormones and rekindled love flowing through her body. She was the one that was pregnant but he was the one driven to exhaustion during her first and second trimester.

He ran his hands over her belly, back and forth, up to the little bow in the centre of her bra and down to the hem of her skirt. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of his gentle touch. Fate had smiled upon him, since today she was wearing a front clasp bra.

“Do you remember, back in 2008, when we rowed across the south pacific together?” Mulder asked, his voice low and seductive.

She opened her eyes and looked at him, as he ran his fingers along the hem of her bra. She swallowed, and nodded.

“Remember how happy we were, to escape the darkness together, just for that little while? How in love we were? How my tongue felt between your legs as you laid in the sand?” Mulder grabbed onto the clasp of her bra. “The waves crashing around us and threatening to drown us both? Remember how I didn’t stop? Even though I was underwater and couldn’t breathe? I refused to stop until you came. I didn’t matter if I was going to die. I was going to die making sure you were happy and loved.”

Mulder undid the hooks and pulled the two cups apart, freeing her breasts, immediately enveloping them with both his hands and circling her nipples with his thumbs.

“I was going to die for you... I would die for you. And that broken man downstairs… he’d die for you too… in an instant, if your life were threatened or even just to make you happy. You know that don’t you?” Mulder asked. She nodded and he brought his mouth down to her body, suckling on her breast and teasing her nipple with his tongue. He didn’t break eye contact with her. “You know that I’m yours… that you own me?”

He trailed his tongue along her stomach, kissing her, and massaging her breasts with his hands. He kneaded her, and worshipped her, before moving down to the zipper on her skirt. He slid it down.

His mouth found her collarbone and then her neck, licking and lavishing her with his tongue. He floated above her. Her eyes were closed, overwhelmed by his touch and his words. She wondered how she could live without this and how long she’d have to wait for her Mulder to come back to her.

“Open your eyes.” Said Mulder. She did. He saw all the pain there. How was he going to make it go away? “We got married on that same beach. The one where I almost drowned. You told me that the sunset that day was the most incredible you’d ever seen.”

Scully started to cry, but he could tell that these tears were partly sprung from joy.

Mulder descended onto her lips, teasing her mouth gently with his tongue, until she responded and granted him access. He sunk his tongue inside her, sliding and tangling with the warmth of hers. Mulder could get lost in this ocean of warmth. He was growing hard inside his jeans, aching to feel himself inside of her. But this wasn’t about what he wanted – it was about what she needed. He pulled back from her.

“You’re going to be okay, Scully. I promise.” He kissed her on the forehead, and then of both cheeks.

She closed her eyes, overwhelmed by emotion. He slid his hand down to the hem of her underwear. He stroked the skin of her belly before edging his fingers under the elastic and gliding his hand over her pussy.

With expert fingers, he slid his digits between her warm folds, finding her clit with his fingertips. She arched her hips and grimaced in response. This was a stronger reaction than he would usually expect. He had to wonder how long it had been since she’d been touched like this. Slowly he moved his fingertips back and forth, feeling her body shudder every time he hit just the right spot. He didn’t take his eyes off of her face. He wanted to witness her pleasure. It made him want her all the more.

“Scully… look at me.” He said, increasing his pace. His fingers ached, but he didn’t care. She forced her eyes open, and in a second they locked with his. She was writhing beneath him, her breath heavy. “I love you.” He whispered.

Somehow she could feel that love pouring through his figertips. The sensation was overwhelming, her hips lifting and her abdomen contracting in response. She was panting. It was hard to keep her eyes open, but she did – she didn’t look away from him.

“Remember the first time I did this to you? When I had you pinned on my couch begging me not to stop?” Mulder asked. Scully gave a vague approximation of a nod. “But then I did?” He asked, sliding his hand out of her underwear, leaving her teetering at the height of arousal.

“Mulder, please.” She gasped breathlessly, grabbing his hand and pushing it downward.

“Remember why I stopped?” He asked, reaching for his belt buckle, and unfastening it.

“I remember.” She panted. Mulder stood by the side of the bed and undid his jeans. Scully was beside herself at the thought of having him inside her – of him making love to her in a way he hadn’t in so long. She slid her thumbs down beside her hips and pushed her skirt and underwear off of her, kicking them off the end of the bed. She then pulled her blouse and bra off of her arms and threw them to the side. She laid before him completely naked, as he’d seen her a thousand times, but it still somehow took his breath away.

He was so distracted by her actions that he’d only slid his jeans down, but Scully wasn’t playing games.

“Take your shirt off.” She said, sitting up and scooting to the side of the bed.

Mulder began unfastening his white, collared shirt. He had reached the second button when he felt Scully’s mouth on him. She’d pulled down his underwear in a heartbeat and now had him inside her mouth. Mulder gasped. One hand stayed on the third button, and the other instinctively went to the back of her head.

Scully sucked and licked him, like she was starving and this was her last meal. He was big and hard, just like he always was. The difference was that the man she was currently giving head to showed her love in a way she hadn’t been shown in years. The affection in his eyes… the way he touched her… her best friend had returned to her. She’d missed him so much.

“Jesus. Scully.” Panted Mulder, jeans still around his ankles. He forced himself to continue unbuttoning his shirt. Mulder didn’t need a faith in God because Scully’s tongue sliding around his cock was as close to heaven as he ever needed to be.

Mulder pulled his shirt off of his body and discarded it on the floor. Scully had one hand on him and the other between her legs, touching herself. Seeing her do that would push him over the edge at any minute.

“I love you.” Said Mulder, his hands tangling in her red locks. “I love you. Fuck, I love you.”

He forced himself to pull away from her. She looked up at him with those stunning pools of blue that he could drown in. He placed a hand under her chin and smiled down at her.

“I love you too, Mulder.” She said. She grabbed his length and placed a soft kiss on the head.

Mulder stepped out of his jeans and kicked off his shoes.

She laid back down, and spread her legs apart for him. He crawled into the space between her legs, climbing on top of her. Her arms wrapped around his back and she pulled him down against her body. He was unbelievably aroused, but he hadn’t forgotten his mission. It was to prove his love. Restore her faith in him. Ease her pain. Even if this only existed in the deep recesses of his mind… this was his beautiful, perfect, firecracker Scully.

She grabbed hold of him and guided him to her entrance, not that he needed the assistance. After thousands of times being together like this, he knew her body better than his own. Their bodies played together like a duet, performed with beauty and precision. He slid inside her, his eyes meeting hers as he did. He smiled at her, and she smiled back.

With every thrust between her legs he imagined driving the pain out of her body and soul. He would fuck her until there was no room for anything else but his love. She clutched desperately at his back, overwhelmed by the way he filled her so perfectly. He fit inside her so blissfully and perfectly that it felt odd that their bodies were ever separated. She didn’t want this to ever end. She wanted all of him forever, tucked safely inside of her and bound to her so tightly that nothing could ever take him away. Mulder felt her legs wrap around his waist, pulling him into her, as if he could reach any deeper inside her.

“Mulder. Mulder.” She panted frantically.

He knew she was on the cusp. He was too. Their breaths mingled, as they drew quick breaths between fevered kisses.

“Look at me, Scully. I want to be with you when you come.” He panted against her ear, before pulling back and hovering above her.

It was hard not to close his eyes… to be carried away by the sensation of her, but he wanted her to feel their connection more than his body. He could see it was an effort for her too, but she was never one to back away from a challenge. He watched as the rush of euphoria hit her brain, loving that he’d done this to her. Loving that through some strange magic, he could make her feel this way. He felt her tighten and throb around him, and he spilled inside her. She was watching him to… witnessing his absolute pleasure. She felt it as strongly as she did her own, so much so that she wasn’t sure whether it was his orgasm or she came again.

He collapsed on top of her and she wrapped her arms and legs around her, holding him against her chest.

“Please don’t go.” She begged. She ran her fingers through his hair, savouring the feel of him pressed against her.

“Hey. You see this ring.” He said, lifting his hand off the pillow. “It means I promised to be with you forever, and I don’t intend on breaking that promise.”

He propped himself up on his knees and looked down at her. The tenderness in his heart had reached maximum capacity.

“I’ll find you, Scully. I’ll always find you.” She stared up at him, tears falling from her eyes. She nodded. Mulder smiled and descended onto her lips.

***

All Mulder could see was a blinding light.

“Mulder!” He heard Scully calling him. “Mulder!”

Mulder blinked his eyes as the white faded away. Scully’s beautiful face was before him. His Scully. His beautiful 2023 Scully.

“Can you hear me?” Asked Scully. He could hear fear in her voice.

“Yes. I can hear you.” Answered Mulder, as his eyes began to focus. He realised he was no longer on top of Scully, but beneath her. She was holding a tiny flashlight in her hand. “What happened?”

“I’m not sure. You appeared to be in a catatonic state.” She said, sitting on the bed beside him.

“For how long?” Mumbled Mulder.

“A few minutes.” Answered Scully. Her eyes were fixed on him – concern etching her features.

“Felt like hours.” Said Mulder.

Not that he had any complaints. He’d be happy to spend an eternity there with her if it didn’t mean missing out on the remainder of his life. He had already decided that if the afterlife didn’t include making love to Dana Scully on a regular basis, he was going to have a word with whoever was in charge.

“You remember what you experienced this time?” She asked, placing her hand on his chest.

“Yeah. I went somewhere. It was some kind of dream state, except nothing about it seemed like a dream.” Explained Mulder.

“What do you mean? A vision?”

“Something I didn’t mention before, Scully...” Mulder hesitated, knowing she would probably be irritated by his nondisclosure. “William did something to me.”

“What did he do?” She asked, looking worried. He hated causing that look on her face.

“He healed me. He could see I was in pain when I was walking down the stairs. He wanted to help me. So he healed my arthritis. Now I have the joints of a 20 year old.” Mulder playfully waggled his eyebrows, hoping his levity would ease her look of concern. “But I’m thinking maybe this was an unintentional side-effect.”

“What were you experiencing?” Asked Scully, laying her hand on his forehead and swiping his hair backwards.

“Like I said, Scully. It was like I was dreaming, but it felt real. I was stuck in the past. That day I brought home the porch swing. Maggie was a baby… I was holding her. It was great to hold her like that again.” Mulder smiled. “And I was with you.”

“When?” Asked Scully.

“The day you left me.” Mulder felt reluctant to even mention it “Or tried to anyway.”

“How are either of those times and events correlated?” Scully asked, her mind ticking away.

“I don’t think they are. I think I somehow chose those memories and visited them.” Said Mulder, vaguely remembering the rush of sound.

“Why would you choose that day? It was a terrible time.” Said Scully.

“Yeah, I had to put the swing together twice because I refused to read the instructions. But it was still a great day.” Jested Mulder.

Scully had told him to read the instructions and lay out all the parts in case something was missing. How many times in his life would he pay for not listening to her?

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Scully said, not fooled by his deflection.

“I wanted to go back for you, Scully.” Confessed Mulder. “You were in pain.”

Scully smiled and took his hand.

“And you interacted with me in these dreams?” She asked.

“Yes.” He said, nodding. “It felt as real as having this conversation with you right now.”

There was a long pause while Scully began to think things through and no doubt form her theory.

“Perhaps… This is another element of healing.” Suggested Scully. “You know as I do that dreams are theorised to be an avenue for the brain to deal with trauma. Imagine if you could visit any memory you chose. Erase a mistake you made… be with a love one who’s passed. This is a sentence I never thought I’d say… but maybe this is a way that aliens dream.”

“But I don’t have alien DNA, Scully.” Said Mulder, sounding doubtful.

“We have no understanding of the scientific process through which William heals. Or uses any of his abilities for that matter. Perhaps it’s your very lack of alien DNA that has caused this result.”

“But you have never experienced this. William and Maggie don’t dream like this… do they?”

“I don’t know. Theoretically if one can only visit memories they have retained then Maggie would have neither many memories to visit, nor any reason to. She hasn’t experienced any trauma, and she’s too young to think retrospectively or feel nostalgic for much.”

Mulder considered her for a moment.

“Let me ask you something Scully… Did you have a crush on Davy Jones as a kid?” He stared up at her from his pillow.

“Why would you ask me that?” She stared down at him looking confused.

“Answer the question, Scully.” Mulder said, somehow already knowing the truth.

“I received my first vinyl record for my 7th birthday. It was “Girl” by Davy Jones. Missy had a poster of him which I may have claimed as my own. Why do you ask?”

Mulder smirked at her. This was adorable and he’d definitely use this information against her later.

“When I was with you, you told me you had a crush on Davy Jones as a kid. If these dreams only pertained to what was already in my mind, how could I gather new information?” Questioned Mulder.

“Maybe I already told you at some point in time.” Ventured Scully.

“No. If I had been given that information you would have paid for it dearly. Which I suspect is why you never told me.” He grinned at her.

“You are correct. But what I’m more concerned about is it happening again. To happen twice in such a short period.” Said Scully, squeezing his hand.

“Maybe it’s temporary… like your visions.” Proposed Mulder. “Besides, I can’t say I’m sorry about this. It was amazing.”

“Mulder you allowed yourself to be exposed to the point of hypothermia. What if this was to happen while you’re driving?” Asked Scully, frustrated by his lack of concern.

“Well I won’t drive for a couple of weeks. Worth it.” He answered.

“What was so amazing?” She asked.

“ _You_ were – as always. We were here together in this bed, the day you left.” Said Mulder.

He wished that he could explain the gravity of what he had just experienced. The passion and depth of love that he felt for her. The comfort he received from being there to hold and talk with her during such a vulnerable and painful time.

“That would support my theory that this is an avenue for psychological healing.” Stated Scully. “That was an extremely low point for both of us.”

Though she questioned why he would not return to a memory of Samantha. Perhaps he had truly healed from that trauma.

“I’m just theorising, but hear me out here… maybe this is like a vision of the past? You had a vision that never came to pass. You learned what you needed to from that vision and the visions stopped. Maybe this is learning from the past. Like a retrovision?”

“Well what did you learn?” She asked, raising her eyebrows.

“That you had a crush on Davy Jones. This is _everything_ Scully.” He grinned.

Scully rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“Shut up, Mulder.”

***

A week had passed since Mulder had found himself in that strange dream state. No more episodes had happened.

What had happened, however, was that Mulder had played _“Girl”_ by Davy Jones about a hundred times, and that was not an exaggeration.

He’d started off by secretly setting the song as Scully’s ringtone – which hilariously she still hadn’t figured out how to change back. He’d played it in the middle of the grocery store, getting down on one knee and doing a lip-syncing serenade to her. Since his knees didn’t hurt anymore, he’d repeated this act at several other locations. He’d played it at the park and while cooking dinner. He’d played it in the car. He’d woken her up by playing the song on the Youtube app and setting it on her pillow. He’d hummed it. He’d sung it. He’d whistled it.

She tried to throw things at him many times in retaliation, but thanks to his new-found agility he had so far escaped unharmed. Maggie now called it “Mommy’s favourite song” and knew all the lyrics. Scully pretended to hate it, but she loved every minute of it. She’d danced with him to it, and he’d sung it into her ear.

The truth was that he’d always loved that song. He’d loved it since he was ten years old. It was only now that he understood why.


End file.
